


Infested

by syrupwit



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Drabble Sequence, Gen, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:54:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25052716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syrupwit/pseuds/syrupwit
Summary: The button warehouse on Mulvey Street turns out to be infested with river krusts.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4
Collections: Multifandom Drabble 2020





	Infested

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kay_obsessive](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kay_obsessive/gifts).



The button warehouse on the Rudshore waterfront at Mulvey Street, the one with a rumored store of poisons in the basement, turns out to be infested with river krusts.

Galia, still drunk from last night and eager to prove herself, volunteers to clear the warehouse before Rinaldo can tug her hand down. She slaps him back, and he inclines his head: Billie Lurk, unimpaired by revelry, has already stepped forward to claim the task.

“Fleet,” says Daud, and Galia thrills. “Lurk,” and Galia wilts. “I trust you’ll take care of this quietly.”

They take the incendiary wrist-darts, just in case.

* * *

  
  


It’s not far on the rooftops. Lurk zips ahead, Galia trailing at a hungover lurch. They break a window to slip through an attic dormitory musty with rot. The door is blocked with broken furniture; a weeper’s corpse, curled around a pistol, guards the corner. Galia lets Lurk clear their path to the main packing room.

Mold spores thicken the air as they descend, chains clanking in the desolate quiet. About halfway down, Lurk stops short. 

“What?” Galia follows her gaze to a nearby platform.

There, open and quivering with their movements, is the biggest river krust she’s ever seen.

* * *

  
  


_ Infested _ is an understatement. Due to a proprietary glaze employed in button processing, the warehouse is overrun with giant, unusually aggressive river krusts that spit some kind of super-acid. 

Luckily, there’s still whale oil around. They douse the remaining areas they can reach, to be lit with darts, and gather tanks to throw at the rest. Even well-rested and sober, Galia would be heavier on her feet than Lurk; her heart pounds, her legs shake. Her fingers slip. She watches the tank fall. Shit.

They barely make it out before the place explodes. And, next week, the krusts are back.


End file.
